Wednesday, February 11, 2015

To understand the development of the London
Underground, or “Tube,” one has to look at both the growth and sprawl of the
metropolis and the existing modes of transport in the middle years of the
nineteenth century. As the population of London expanded from one million in
1800 to more than 2,350,000 by mid-century modes of transport became
increasingly mechanised and the movement of the population from the country to
the city accelerated.

London Traffic 1871

With the expansion of the Great Metropolis,
both in the number of its residents and the extension of its boundaries, many
areas which had been outlying rural districts became part of the growing
suburbs of the city. “There was,” as Eric Lampard opined, “a certain myopic
quality to the later Victorian belief in the Suburbs.” In addition, I think
that for many of the “movers and shakers” of London, their sense of the
continuing progress, at least for their class, reinforced their belief in
infinite progress.

But progress always comes at a price and in
the second half of the nineteenth century that price, among others, meant
creating the means for a mobile workforce, a workforce that could be easily and
speedily conveyed from their places of habitation to their places of
employment. Attempts to expedite this process had been made through the
century. The horse-drawn cabs were far too expensive for the working class and
the horse-drawn omnibuses, an early attempt at mass transit were first seen on
London streets in 1829. The earliest of these was the Paddington to the City
omnibuses established by George Shillibeer; by the time of the Great Exhibition
in 1851, there were almost 1,500 omnibuses covering 150 routes. Even so, the
cost to passengers was comparatively high and, as a result, the omnibuses were
used largely by the middle classes. Nor were the omnibuses able to move the
large numbers of passengers. The earliest fares were from sixpence to a
shilling, but by the latter years of the century these had fallen to three
halfpence in order to compete with the Underground. Forty years later, there
were, according to W. J. Gordon, in The Horse World of London,
“ten thousand horses working a thousand omnibuses, travelling twenty million
miles in a year, and carrying one hundred and ten million passengers.”

A London Omnibus 1860s

Despite their growth, their increasing affordability and being “the most
characteristic feature of London, the omnibuses were not up to the task of
moving the vast hordes of the labouring classes to, from and through the Great
Wen.

By the middle of the century, the city was
reachable, at least to its outskirts, by rail-lines. Once, however, the
passengers alighted, whether at Paddington, Waterloo, Victoria or one of the
other terminuses, a trip into the City itself or to the West End, became
dependent on other means of transport. The traveller was thrown back on the
hackney cab, the omnibus or shanks’s pony.

Mary Higgs, at the beginning of the
twentieth century, in Glimpses into the Abyss commented, “the
feature of the life of most men is daily migration. By train, tram, or
road, tides of humanity move to toil.” It was “the daily migration of labour,
the tide morning and night ebbs and flows.” It is this, she describes as “the
modern problem of the Fluidity of labour!”

Ironically, the growth of the suburbs with
the need for increased transportation options contributed to the congestion of
already overcrowded London. For example, when horse drawn trams, on steel
tracks, were introduced in the 1860s, they were opposed, not surprisingly, by
omnibus operators, but also by inner-London on the grounds they would increase
rather than reduce traffic congestion.

The idea of an underground system linking
the termini and offering safe and speedy means of getting around London had
first been mooted in the 1830s, but for a variety of reasons, including the
expense of such construction, lack of interest from the established railways
and the Crimean War, it was not until the mid-1850s that permission was granted
for the Metropolitan Railway to begin construction of the first line at a cost
of one million pounds. Construction began in 1860 and was completed three years
later. The line was built using the “cut and cover” method. Aside from the
great disruption this caused to those whose properties were demolished and the
effect it had on trade in the immediate vicinity, it allowed construction close
to the surface and this, in turn, helped mitigate some of the unpleasantness of
travelling underground.

Cut-and-cover caused massive disruption

In May of 1862 the directors and engineers
of the project inspected the line from Paddington to the City. Among the
passengers travelling in open carts was the Chancellor of the Exchequer and
future Prime Minister, William Ewart Gladstone.

Inspecting the Line in May 1862

When the line was finally
completed all of the stakeholders joined in celebration. On January 9, 1863, a
party of 600 Parliamentarians, railway officials and executives as well as the
rich, famous and important of London progressed by train from Paddington to a
banquet at the Farringdon Street Station. There were speeches made and music
provided by the Metropolitan Police Band.

Farringdon Street Station Banquet

The line officially opened the next day. Steam
locomotives pulled gas-lit carriages through the dark tunnels from Paddington
to the City over a distance of six kilometres.

The Original Metropolitan Underground Line

On the first day of operation
the line carried 38,000 passengers and in the first week, 225,000. By the end
of its first year of operation there had been more than nine million riders.

Although the horse-drawn omnibuses and trams were to
survive into the twentieth century only to be replaced by more modern
above-ground modes of transport, the underground railway had clearly arrived.
Within days, the newspapers were reporting that passenger numbers were down for
omnibuses and fares had been reduced from Paddington to Whitechapel Church as
well as from Paddington to London Bridge or the Bank. Less than a fortnight
after the line opened, the following description of a trip appeared in “London
Letter,” in the John o’ Groat Journal for 22 January:

Taking out a first-class ticket, we enter the large and
spacious carriages, and observe at once that, different from any other railway,
the carriages are lighted with gas. The line, being of the broad gauge, admits
of large and handsome carriages, most comfortably and elegantly seated for five
on each side, and fitted up with cozy cushions and elbows. The gas is contained
in a vessel attached to the roof of each carriage, holding a sufficient
quantity to last a journey. The introduction of this system of lighting enables
one to read his novel or newspaper with perfect ease, and, indeed, combined
with the smooth travelling on the broad gage [sic], almost makes one forget
that he is in a train, and not in a drawing-room. A certain closeness of
atmosphere can scarcely be avoided, but owing to the peculiar construction of
the engines by which they consume their own smoke, no sulphurous fumes are
added, and the travelling, if properly managed, must be perfectly safe.

This view was certainly shared by Sir William Hardman
who, with his wife, made a trip down the “drain” on the 26th of
January. Their first-class trip from Edgeware Road to King’s Cross cost them 6d
each and they rode in a ten-person carriage with divided seats. First class
carriages were lit by two gas lights and were high enough that “a six footer
may stand erect with his hat on.”

Not everyone was thrilled with the new underground
railway, especially those who were forced to ride in third class. Only one day
after the “London Letter” appeared, The Morning Post was objecting to the foul
smelling, mephitic odour which pervaded the stations in the form of “a misty
vapour irresistibly combining the idea of a laundry and a limekiln.” It was,
according to The Post, “enough to produce a headache in five minutes, and five
minutes more would be sufficient for the heaviest of colds.”

Workmen waiting for the 3rd Class Train, 1872

But by the end of the month in which the Metropolitan Railway opened for business, The Times could say, in judgement,

It has worked with success and found unexpected favour. The threats of steam and smoke, of chokedamp and sewerage, of rats and banditti, with which it has been hailed in some quarters, have been dispelled by the result.

If Sir William Hardman is to be trusted, the Underground
was used by the highest as well as the lowest of the land, including the Prince
of Wales.

The other day, just before his marriage [10 March 1863]
he was smoking in a first-class railway carriage (ordinary train) and the
porter, not recognising him, asked him to show his ticket. A lady residing at
Windsor told a friend of ours she was sure the Prince was a person of no mind
at all, as he had gone up to the bookstall and bought a copy of Punch and
actually paid for it himself. Perhaps you will agree with us that an unaffected
young fellow who hates nonsensical dignity, smokes in the railway, and reads Punch, may turn out not so badly after all.

And while there may be much debate as to whether or not
the Prince of Wales actually turned out “not so badly,” there is no question
that the London Underground, the Tube, which grew out of the Metropolitan
Underground Railway did turn out well indeed.

Today, the London Tube carries over a billion and a
quarter passengers per year over 402 kilometers of track at an average speed of
thirty-three kilometers an hour.

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About Me

I regret to advise that my husband Dr Bruce Rosen died on 19th September 2017. Many thanks to all of the followers and admirers of this site over many years.

Virginia Rosen.

Retired from active teaching since 1995, I am an Honorary Research Associate in the School of History and Classics at the University of Tasmania.

Following my retirement, I administered and taught in Summer Schools at St John's College, University of Sydney and at Jane Franklin Hall, an associated college of the University of Tasmania.

I enjoy travel and for many years spent several months a year in Europe. This included a visit to Israel, a study tour of Venice, and a river cruise from Amsterdam to Budapest. But always, always, there is Paris where, for many years I spent three months a year.

I am happy to respond, as possible, to requests for information as long as they are not anonymous and they are sent to me at bruce@tassie.org